Mask of War
by Womgi
Summary: When your past life's a grim one, its time to have fun. Violet Potter was left at the Dursleys, her parents persuaded by a well meaning Dumbledore. But then, the Dursleys are cruel and violent, and Violet becomes aware that she is not exactly normal. Something I knocked off to amuse myself.


Disclaimer: I do not own most of the things in this fiction. I don't need to specifically point it out, but you'll know which ones when you get there.

At the moment a one shot. If the response is great I'll see if I can expand upon this.

XXX

Halloween 1981 was a very grim day for Wizarding Britain. It was also a very happy one. Lord Voldemort was defeated. He was gone from this world and all that was left was a memory.

But some memories are persistent and traumatic. They drag the light from the soul of man until what is left is a hollow shell. It is the way of the world that even destroying the cause will not end suffering. Not always. But few realized that what had been destroyed that night was but a symptom, a malignant visible symptom to be sure, but mere symptom none the less. The rotten undercurrents that spawned this vision of darkness still remained. And it would bide its time before raising its head again. Human nature was like that.

XXX

In the darkened room, damaged by the spellfire that had laid claim to its pristine nature, a group of people began to decide the fate of children. Two wizard, a witch and a son.

"It is for the best. Violet will be safe, and the two of you need not be as wary, as you would if you had to care for two children, instead of one."

The grey bearded speaker was a man of immense repute, and magical skill. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. He was also a holder of titles that trailed his name like so many lost letters.

"Albus! You cannot be honestly suggesting that this girl be ripped from the arms of her loving parents and sent _away_ are you?"

The mother was Lily Potter nee Evans, a most formidable witch, but a loving mother first.

"Now calm down Lily, I'm sure the headmaster meant nothing of the sort, _did you_?"

The Father was James Potter, a master of transfiguration, and doting father.

"But that is exactly what I am saying. I do not mean to be cruel, but these are the facts. Voldemort is not dead!"

"GASP!"

And to complete the cast was a young boy sleeping in his mother's arms, not much older than one, and now hero of the hour, Daniel James Potter.

"There was no body, and I am sure that even though they celebrate now, there are many who are not averse to _his_ return."

The grim conversation continued, its participants drawing words from the heart, trying their best to make the others understand their view; three wizarding folk on two sides.

"But-"

"Understand Lily! I did not defeat Gellert with a levitating charm! In my youth I have committed many follies, and some of them, though most regretted have given me sufficient expertise in the forbidden arts to allow me to tell you this. Voldemort is not dead. And if he is not dead, he will come back. It may not be today, or tomorrow, but one day he will return. Daniel here is unfortunately mired in this drama. His scar makes it impossible to separate him from this ridiculous business. But Violet! Think of your daughter! She will be able to stay safe, hidden from all, and loved unconditionally. She will want for nothing! She will be happy! She will have the freedom that none of us will have until the next great adventure."

"But Albus-!"

"You know I am right. You cannot deny this truth. I was an adult, a young one to be sure, but an adult all the same when I was thrust into my role by my victory. Daniel does not have the luxury of having grown up freely. Please allow your beloved daughter that opportunity. I beg of you!"

And the Potters saw not a conniving old man, but merely a man, old and tired, a burden undiminished upon his bony shoulders.

And one by one, the players acquiesced. They deferred to the weight of experience and wept. For Violet Lily Potter, was from today no longer.

XXX

It had been three years now. There was no doubt in their minds.

The girl was a freak.

She was cursed with _her _curse.

She was born with _her_ eyes.

And she was most definitely not normal.

And they wondered, deep inside their hateful hearts, was it their fault?

It had been an accident after all. The girl had been asking for it. She was being freakish, she was. Even Dudley cried. So if she wasn't normal like Dudley, she was freakish like her parents. And freaks deserved whatever they got for sullying their good English homes. Freaks deserved no mercy.

And so they had hit her, lightly at first. But she didn't cry. And it infuriated them. So they hit her harder. And an adult hitting a child had consequences. Just not ones they imagined.

XXX

Seven years old. Violet Potter was seven years old. But she didn't care. What was time to her, but the count of the mistakes of the past repeated? What was time but the song of the dead as they were devoured by in their deaths, their souls feeding the beasts that lay beyond the veil of the empyrean? There was no use of time for her. She was not human. She didn't need the angry mutterings of her guardians to tell her that. She was different.

Ever since that beating at a very young age, she had awoken.

Memories of another age.

Memories of another life.

They gathered in her mind like sand in a desert.

And every night since that night and every day since that day, she had been waiting. It took a while for about two millennia to filter down, two millennia of memories of life in a universe where dying was terrifying for a reason. There was no Slaanesh in this world. There was no great devourer. And the psyker of the past was just underneath, waiting to heed her call.

But then, she wasn't one of them now was she? She was human, a species of the worst order, a race of barbarians who had armed the chaos gods, with a most potent army. She was no longer Eldar.

Reincarnation was impossible. That was what the world said. To die without the presence of a spirit stone was to all but step into the jaws of Slaanesh. Yet she was alive. Perhaps not whole, but she was alive. Why?

Violet was a strange girl. But she knew enough about the universe to appreciate her life. The torments of the Dursleys had nothing on the Dark Eldar. She was actually happy. There was no Slaanesh to paw at her soul. There were no necrons to watch over. And she knew this as surely as there was no warp to be afraid of. What she now had was "magic", if she had read the Dursleys correctly. She was given a second chance to live. She could even be normal. Have laughter without the perils of the Eldar past. She could grieve when she needed, instead of supplicating to the path of grief. She was free.

But then, nothing said she couldn't be extraordinary either. She had the world at her fingertips. It was time to be herself. It was time to see just what this world of humans was like. It was time that she explored humanity.

Violet Potter, once Liara, Eldar warlock took a breath and smiled. It was an angelic smile that was an expression of innocence.

Vernon Dursley took one look at it and fled. It seemed that things were going to change around here. He didn't like it.

XXX

A/N:

Its an experiment. I've gotten a new job and I'm doing night shifts, so writing is becoming a smaller priority while my clock adjusts. Still, the urge is great. So I decided to try minor pieces here and there to keep on writing until I can spare the time to concentrate on my main fic.

I thought of dumping this in random, but it isn't really the same, and this fic is a somewhat more dear to me than my Gundam crossover

As for why something like this, I've been reading Ciaphas Cain, which is both hilarious and face palm worthy. And then read the Emperasque, which is oddly satisfying reading. So I'm indulging my need to party in 'de land of de emprah'. Review! And message too, if that's more your style.

TC my readers!


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